


All Soft on the Inside

by Monkess



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-02 10:34:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monkess/pseuds/Monkess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From an anonymous Tumblr prompt: Gold is Storybrooke's mayor who has a crush on the town's librarian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Soft on the Inside

After the election, Mary Margaret Blanchard went out for consolation coffees, cocoas, and pie with her tiny team of supporters consisting of her husband David, Archie Hopper the only psychologist in Storybrooke, and Belle, the town’s librarian. It was nearly closing hour and after bringing them all their orders, Ruby sat herself down at the end of their booth on an extra chair she drew out for herself.

“So, how did it go?” Ruby asked, although judging by everyone’s down-turned expressions, it was not hard to guess.

“I lost the election,” Mary Margaret replied, leaning her chin against her palm. She toyed with her spoon in her mug of hot coco.

“Well, that just sucks,” Ruby announced, “especially with that zoning thing and all.”

Before the election, Mary Margaret had found out the person running opposed to her to the office of the mayor was most likely in for the job just to get the man they wanted into the town zoning commission. The man who she’d been running against was no other than Mr Gold, who pretty much already owned the town as it was, but he was about to make a pretty penny with the town zoning in his pocket: The new highway to Saint John was going to go through Mr Gold’s piece of the woods and the value of the land was going to skyrocket for development.

“He just made a point about how it was going to bring in more business to Storybrooke,” Mary Margaret said, staring at her piece of lemon cheese pie despondently. “I’d prefer we’d still have Regina as mayor.”

Who would have believed that mayor Mills was going to run off to Florida with her personal trainer? But there you had it. She’d announced her resignation, packed her car and left with the handsome pilates trainer.

“It’s a tough time,” Doctor Hopper said, “perhaps tough times need… tougher mayors?”

“But it’s still going to be years before there’s any highway, or gas stations or diners up by the new highway,” Belle said, “and Storybrooke keeps losing tax payers and tax money,” she stirred her tea thoughtfully. “The budget negotiations at the town council are going to be interesting.” Belle thought outwards she must have seemed as gaunt as she felt.

There were certain aspects of public governance that were absolutely necessary and demanded by the state, but Belle was under no illusion that the town’s public library was one of them. She’d been aware of the crisis with the money already during the reign of mayor Mills. Belle suspected that one of the reasons why Regina had eloped with Daniel was because she’d gotten tired of managing a depressing little town in Maine which had spiralled towards an impossible situation for years on end with global financial crisis after another.

The town’s budget was going to be slashed wide open come Monday. Belle listened to Mary Margaret and David talk about their campaigning while trying to bat off the unpleasant trepidation in her gut. The new mayor was only interested in making money, and while Mr Gold had always, at their chance encounters (Storybrooke being so small, everyone knew each other), been nothing but correct and polite with Belle, she was certain he’d suffer no qualms about shutting down the library for the rest of his term.

Belle shook her head at herself, glancing past the everyone else’s heads and out through the window at the dark rainy night. She wanted to blame Mr Gold for all the town’s troubles. She knew very well something had to give at the budget meeting come next week, unless they suddenly found a vein of diamonds or something in the old abandoned mines below the town. Mr Gold was a stone-cold ruthless man who wouldn’t find it difficult to do what needed to be done. Archie was most likely right, hard times needed hard decisions, and hard people to make those decisions. It wouldn’t be fair of her to think too badly of Mr Gold, especially so when everyone in town already did so. Even if she was fearful of losing her job. Then again, that threat had loomed over her for five years now, through Regina’s regime as well. And how well would Mary Margaret have taken it, if she’d had to be the one in the position to announce the closing of the town’s library?

“Bells? You all there?” Ruby asked her, and Belle snapped back to the present, to smile at the kind waitress, glad that she had a solid job. So would Archie, and so would Mary Margaret, as a teacher at the school, and so would David with the state parks and wildlife refuges, funded by the state of Maine instead of Storybrooke town.

“I’m here,” Belle said, reassuringly. For now.

*

A grey Monday morning came around, and Belle had to go to the town council budget meeting all day. She was so nervous she couldn’t drink tea or coffee, fearing it would make her shake worse than she already did. She wore sombre hues of grey to the meeting instead of her happy bright colours she usually preferred, and she tied her hair back to give a serious appearance, just in case looking more like an accountant would make the town library look more respectable and more deserving of budget allowance, instead of termination.

The mayor himself was not present at the meeting, instead of being present at the town hall he was doing something at Regina’s old office, redecoration probably. The proposed list they were going to had been prepared by him though, and was presented by a council member so deep in Mr Gold’s pocket he could have been his handkerchief.

The day droned on slowly as the council waded through figures and power point presentations with pie charts. Belle felt her stomach turn watching the proposed cutbacks to public works. Even sewage and sanitation was going to have to come up with ways to trim their budget, and as far as she knew, they were already doing the best they could.

The budget of the library, being so unimportant, was the very last item to be addressed, and the clock was already past five when the councilman took out the presentation slide of the library’s proposed budget for next year. Belle stared at the expenditure projections in disbelief. There was more in her budget than there had been before, and if she wasn’t misreading the piechart, she had the chance of getting a raise.

Belle stood up, concerned and worried, and cut short the presentation. “I’m sorry, there must be a mistake, the library’s budget has been extended by 10 % from this year’s,” she said, confused, uncertain if she should be glad or not. “I thought we were doing cutbacks?”

The councilman shrugged. “Oh. Right. I forgot to mention, there was an anonymous donation made to the town, addressed to the library, to keep it running next year.”

Belle gawked silently for a second, and then seated herself slowly. “Oh. Alright. I don’t suppose we can move some of that money to senior healthcare?”

“The donation was made with the intent that all the money go to the library,” the councilman said, and glanced at the wall where the preliminary budget plan remained. “Is this agreeable to the town library?”

Belle nodded absently. “Yes. Absolutely.”

“Then that concludes this presentation and we can move on to the topic of other questions and concerns unrelated to our previous issues. Anyone?”

The room was full of bored and tired people who’d sat through a ten-hour powerpoint presentation. No one said anything, while the secretary kept on typing the final minutes of the meeting.

“Then I call this meeting adjourned,” the leading councilman proclaimed.

Belle stopped by the diner to get some takeaway. She was far too tired to cook anything for herself, and wanted some time and quiet to think about this mysterious donation. Once she climbed back home to her apartment above the library, she kicked off her shoes and crashed on her comfy reading chair with her avocado pasta gone cold.

As far as she knew, no one had died and left a fortune behind that year in Storybrooke. There was the chance it was someone outside of town, maybe someone who’d moved out to go to work or university somewhere else, and they had fond memories of the ratty, draughty town library and its wonderful collection of nautical biographies?

There was only really a handful of people well off enough to pad the town’s budget for a whole year. Or rather, one person alone, really, Belle thought. But the thought felt absurd. Why would Mr Gold give his precious money away to fund the library? Or maybe he had some bizarre fond memories of the building, and didn’t want to see it turned into a derelict, useless hole, like so many other places in Storybrooke had in the recent years.

Belle couldn’t be sure, of course.

That was why the next day she went by the town hall early in the morning before work, and found a young woman, Ashley, who was working in the clerk’s office. She was Mary Margaret’s friend and might have access to the information of who the mysterious patron saint was.

* 

Mr Gold was irritated. In general, he was often irritated, but since becoming the mayor of Storybrooke the feeling had only intensified. He hadn’t wanted to run for the mayor’s office in the first place, but when the school teacher, Mary Margaret had started campaigning to get herself elected as the new mayor, and had even become rather popular all around town thanks to her disarming, sincere and down to earth personality, Mr Gold had realised it was unlikely that Mary Margaret was going to allow Mr Gold’s new zoning plans related to the new highway to pull through.

Now that was all done with, and he’d had to sit a year in office to make sure the zoning office would do all he required. But it was not that easy. The seat of the mayor would require him to be present at a number of meaningless, irritating ceremonies and dinner parties. Instead of inheriting Regina’s gaudily decorated old office, he thought he’d much rather stay home indoors, working from his office and ignore every single inanity he’d have to participate in as the mayor.

A few weeks into his term, the irritation had grown into a remorseless impatience with everything. When in the evening someone rang his doorbell, he was in the mind of either ignoring it, or giving the person behind a good shouting, whoever it was.

But it wasn’t just anyone, it was Belle French, the town librarian, standing under a sky-blue umbrella in the rain, smiling, at his doorstep.

When Mr Gold had first glanced at Regina’s earlier plans with the town’s future budget cuts, he’d noticed the town was sinking, and most especially, Regina had had plans of letting go of the library. Mr Gold was fond of a good read, but not fond enough to give a substantial donation just for the sake of ancient old books, especially in the era of electric readers and the Internet in just anyone’s house or phone.

But if the librarian should lose her job, how long would she stay in Storybrooke?

“Hello Mr Gold,” Belle French said.

Mr Gold stared at her dazzling smile for a moment, for a heartbeat worried that _she knew_.

“I’m Belle French, I’m not sure if you remember my name, we’ve met in passing,” the librarian continued. Mr Gold relaxed a bit at that. If she had to introduce herself, well, that meant she hadn’t found out he’d just bought her a year in Storybrooke.

“Yes, I remember your name,” Mr Gold said, hiding some of his embarrassment behind a cough.

“I just wanted to come by to thank you for the donation to the library,” Miss French continued. She produced a folded card from her shoulder bag, a white piece of thick paper with red flowers drawn on the cover with what seemed crayon. “I asked the children of the Wednesday Fairy Tale club to draw you this,” Belle said, and extended the card to him. Mr Gold accepted it, and casually glanced inside to see the names of what must have been all the Storybrooke Wednesday Fairy Tale club. There were quite a lot more names there than one could have guessed.

“Thank you,” Mr Gold said colourlessly, trying to keep himself composed in front of Miss French. “How did you find out?”

Belle gave him an almost flirtatious smile. “I have my spies everywhere.” She mellowed her expression to her normal, kind countenance again. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone, since you want it to be a secret. I get it, you’re all serious and gruff, and don’t want your business partners to think you’re all soft on the inside.”

Mr Gold couldn’t come up with a reply to that.

“But it’s late. I should go home. Good night, Mr Gold,” Miss French said, and turned away from his door.

“Good night. Belle,” Mr Gold said.


End file.
